Just One of Those Days
by Shandrial
Summary: Face and Amy get separated from the Team have to learn to depend on each other for survival. May end up as a Face/Amy pairing.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _A-Team_ or any of its characters, which are the property of its respective owners. No profit is made off this story; it is for entertainment purposes only.

**Title:** _Just One of Those Days_

**Rating:** Pg 13 for violence and language. Genre: Action /Suspense/ probably angsty at some points.

**Summary:** Face and Amy get separated from the Team have to learn to depend on each other for survival. May end up as a Face/Amy pairing.

**Author's Note:** _Hello everyone! The prologue is short, so I apologize for that now. I am just testing the _A-Team_ waters, so to speak. This will be my first attempt at writing in the _A-Team_ universe, so I hope to get better at it with practice. Suggestions are always welcome._

This story is not beta-ed so any grammar/spelling mistakes in the Engrish are mine. If you find one and it bugs you, tell me and I'll correct it.

This will be a multi-chapter piece featuring different points of view. I just thought I'd kick it off with our favorite reporter as an opener. I will try not to make this too dark either, I'm horribly known for angst and suspense in the LotR's and anime communities.

**Special Thanks:** After Billyinvisibledog converted me to a Face/Amy fan with the wonderful _A Beautiful Lie_ series (of which I was not a fan of the couple beforehand), I think this might just become a Face/Amy story.

_So… once I push past this prologue and get going, enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Prologue: Just One of Those Days<strong>

_Life is like stepping onto a boat which is about to sail out to sea and sink._

- Shunryu Suzuki Roshi

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><p>Did you ever have one of those perfect days? Where you're on top of the world? Your hair is perfect that day. Nails polished and no chips. You went through that red light on the way to work, right in front of that cop, and he didn't care. People actually held the elevator door for you. Your boss is lenient without any schmoosing. The story practically writes itself. Even your desk is looking as sharp as you. Everything is going your way today and nothing in the world can stop you.<p>

Today was _definitely_ _not_ one of those days for Amy Allen. Her long dark hair was limp, tied back in a ponytail and with loose pieces plastered to her face from sweat. She was bone tired and her feet were starting to hurt from walking and running. Her dark blue slacks kept catching on the underbrush occasionally almost making her trip. The forest seemed to stretch out into forever and after walking for what felt a lifetime; there was still nothing around but trees, trees, and more trees.

She was bruised, sore, hungry, miserable, and _so_ not having a good day. All she wanted was a shower and something to eat. Was that too much to ask?

Everything was bathed in an orange, almost surreal light, as the sun was close to setting on the horizon. Under the canopy of trees the light was definitely starting to fade and the thought of being out here in the wilderness, with the possibility they could be found, made Amy shiver. She unconsciously gripped the dark brown men's dress jacket she wore tighter around her to fend off a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

"This is all your fault," she said quietly, not quite daring to raise her voice.

Taking her eyes of the ground in front of her, Amy looked up at the man she was walking behind. He had worn the dark brown dress pants, light brown sweater, and light blue undershirt today. It was a nice combination with the jacket she now wore, Amy thought, but then, he always looked sharp. He had insisted she wear the jacket to cover her white dress shirt while they fled. The white stood out like a neon sign, he had told her. Maybe it was selfish, but Amy didn't mind because the jacket smelled like him and the scent was comforting, even if she would never admit that to anyone. Ever.

"My fault? And how do you figure that one?" came the easy reply.

Face never turned around as he answered her, his keen eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. It irked Amy even more that he looked far less disgruntled than she did. His blonde hair had definitely been disturbed from the perfect style she usually saw it in, but still, it even looked good messed up. Or maybe that was just _her_? How did he always manage to look decent even trekking through the woods? It irritated her. He had to be exhausted too and his shoulder had to hurt from being slammed into the car door. No one could go through a car wreak and _not_ feel it. _She_ was definitely feeling it, especially in her hips where the seatbelt had caught her.

It was irritating. Irritating because she was so miserable and frightened right now and he was still so calm. Did the man ever tire? Get frustrated? Get mad for being stuck in these situations? How was it they always got in these situations anyway? At least BA would show when he was angry or disappointed and Murdock openly showed a variety of emotions. The two of them wore their hearts on their sleeves at times.

It was always Hannibal and Face that she had trouble reading. The two of them were like birds of a feather; calm, intelligent, smart mouthed to bad guys, always one step ahead, and never showing other people what they really thought. No wonder the two were inseparable. It was like Hannibal and Hannibal jr. at times. Only one complained more.

She had never meet two more unshakable guys before and it drove her crazy at times trying to figure them out. Amy wasn't even sure why she still tried. She supposed it was the reporter in her. She just couldn't leave a mystery unsolved. She had to have answers. Too bad Hannibal and Face were the hardest people she had ever met to get information out of in her _life_. But even with Hannibal's cool demeanor and know-it-all attitude, he still didn't frustrate Amy as much as Face did. Maybe it was his playboy lifestyle, or the fact that he could have whatever or _whoever_ he wanted at any time, and he knew it. And he knew she knew it. _Irritating_.

Amy sighed. Thinking about all that now was definitely _not_ going to help their current situation. It took most of her concentration to try to keep up with Face's tireless pace. She could tell he was slowing down for her, but he kept pushing her to keep going at the same time. The man never tired, she swore. Caught up in her thoughts, Amy realized she never answered.

"Whose idea was it to come this way anyway? Aren't you supposed to be good at reading people? Jeez Face! Those goons practically had signs on their heads that said they wanted to beat you up. And you can never just leave the girl alone can you? So was she worth it, at least?"

Face finally did stop and looked back at Amy. Face was always pretty hard to read, but that cool indifferent look was even more pronounced in his eyes now.

"This was the shortest route back to the airport. Those heavies weren't part of Macnaire's men and I'm not the one who had to anger the brute squad in the first place. And for your information, I barely even talked to her, so I wouldn't know. If you hadn't noticed _sweetheart_, I wouldn't even be here period if you hadn't wanted to leave early."

Face ended by turning back around and continued walking. Amy could finally hear a bit of frustration color the conman's words at that last comment. The reporter knew she was being unfair, but it felt good to ruffle his feathers. To get _some_ sort of reaction out him. To know that he actually _felt_ something besides amusement or the Jazz. And, she had to admit; he did look good when ruffled. _Not now_, she commanded herself. Amy closed her eyes briefly, took a steadying breath, and started walking again.

"Oh that's rich," Amy continued, "you wanted to leave early for your own reasons just as much as I did! I should have stayed with the rest of the guys! At least Hannibal probably would have seen this coming a mile away!"

The reporter was so close on Face's heels that when he stopped suddenly and turned around she ran right into him.

"Now listen here…" Face began but his words died away as he looked down at her.

She was so close to Face she could feel the warmth of his body through her clothes. His scent invaded her senses and not just second hand from the jacket. The heat and scent were almost intoxicating. Amy could feel her breath quicken.

She wondered what he was thinking right then. It wasn't often he was at a lose for words. His look was still unreadable in the failing light, but he hadn't stepped away. Why hadn't he stepped away? Why hadn't _she_ stepped away? The reporter was surprised at how well her body fit up against his. She couldn't be sure, but she thought maybe he was breathing harder as well.

For a second she had this crazy need to know what it would feel like if he put his arms around her. To know how warm that embrace would be. She wondered what it would be like to kiss someone like Face. Someone much more experienced than herself. But why would he _want_ to kiss someone like her? Miss Plain Jayne. She definitely wasn't his type. He was so far out of her league the idea was preposterous. Preposterous or not she found her arm moving up to rest on his strong chest of its own accord. She felt his hand on her elbow and her body unconsciously learned towards the man more if that were possible.

The two paused in that position for a moment, breathing harder. Amy's breath hitched when it seemed Face was leaning in closer as well.

The moment was broken, however, when the reporter felt Face stiffen suddenly. His entire posture changed in an instant.

"What…" she started to say.

The rest of her question was cut off as the conman put his hand over her mouth to silence her. She got the message and didn't try to speak anymore. Face removed his hand and she felt the other hand on her elbow tighten slightly. From Face's alert stance and look of concentration she thought he might be listening. Amy tried to quiet herself and listen too, but she couldn't hear anything above the natural noise of a slight breeze and her own heartbeat. Even though she couldn't hear anything, Face's tense stance against her made her heart quicken anyway. She knew the guys had much better senses when it came to stuff like this than she did. And she couldn't help but become frightened when any of the Team became very serious like this.

Without a word Face lead her to a near by large rock that had some underbrush surrounding it. They knelt down besides it and Face mouthed a silent _stay here_. By the time Amy's eyes widened slightly in disbelief he was gone, fading into the fast approaching nightfall like a ghost. _Get a grip_! Amy commanded herself and took a deep breath. She unconsciously pulled Face's jacket tighter around herself and concentrated on listening to her surroundings again. Try as she might, she couldn't hear him or anyone else for that matter. But that was good right? Because if they had found Face there would be some noise right? Even if she tended to forget because of his carefree attitude, Face was still an ex-green beret, he wouldn't go down easily.

Amy waited for what seemed like ages kneeling in the cold dirt with hard rock against her back. The reporter looked around, but night had truly fallen now and the only thing she could see was the outline of dark ominous looking trees. The sight and the oppressive silence did nothing to calm her already taxed nerves. She knew she wouldn't see Face anyway, not if he didn't want to be seen.

Suddenly, she heard the soft crack of what sounded like a twig snapping. Amy desperately hoped it was Face, but she knew it wasn't. Whatever his demeanor at times, he really was very good at what he did. The shuffle of something, or someone, coming closer to her hiding place grew closer. The reporter brought both hands up to cover her mouth and tried desperately not to make a sound. Amy held herself as still and as quiet as she possibly could and listened_. Pass by_,_ please pass by_, she pleaded desperately in her head. Where the hell was Face? The rustle of leaves very close, _too_ close to her hiding place, made Amy start and the only thing that kept her from gasping out loud was the firm grip she had over her mouth.

Quiet or not, slowly she saw a change in shadows and the outline of a person appeared above her. She didn't have to see him clearly to know it obviously wasn't Face and a shiver went down her spine. This was _so_ not her day.

"Well hello again, sweetheart," a man's voice, that was definitely _not_ Face, said.

_Face_! The frantic plea sounded in her head.

It didn't matter that not more than five minutes ago she was irritated with him and wanting to kiss him at all the same time, or that she still thought this was _all_ his fault. Right now, all she wanted was the conman back and this baboon to not be in front of her.

As the dirtbag's hand seemed to reach out for Amy is slow motion, she had to ask herself, how do we always manage to get into these situations?

Run? Fight back? Sit here like a damsel in distress?! Make up your mind Amy! She demanded of herself. Fighting back was probably not an option and no way, after all this time with the Team, was she a damsel in distress, so make a break for it it was then.

Before the reporter really knew what she was doing she was already removing her hands from her mouth and tensing her muscles in preparation to spring back from her would be attacker and flee. She knew Face would find her somehow, wherever the hell he was.

As Amy shot to her feet the heavy reacted faster than she expected and sprang towards her before she could get anywhere. On instinct she stumbled backward as his iron grip latched onto her wrist. For an agonizing couple of seconds her heart leapt into her throat as she prepared to struggle for all she was worth. No way was she about to die or get dragged away by this slimeball without some sort of fight, even if she didn't think she could win.

Before Amy could even flinch, kick, bite or anything another shadow materialized behind the guy and she heard a grunt as the grip on her wrist slackened and fell away. The reporter released the breath she didn't realize she was holding as the heavy's limp body was guided to the ground. She brought a hand to her chest and tried to get her nerves back under control with a slow breath as Face quickly and efficiently searched the man for anything of interest, took the handgun away, and bound the man up with the his own coat. I guess I wasn't threatening enough for the gun, she thought to herself. The reporter didn't know if that was a relief or if it made her slightly angry. It was one of those nights.

"They make this too easy," Face said with a little sigh as he finished and stood up.

It was that blasé attitude of Face's that almost made her eyebrow want to tick.

"Cutting it a little close aren't you?" she tried to ask as calmly as she could.

Amy thought she did a pretty good job of the calm too.

"I did say to stay put," the conman said as he tucked the man's gun into the back of his pants.

"Besides, I was there the whole time, I wouldn't have let him hurt you," he continued in a tone that could have been used to talk about the weather.

No, it _definitely_ made her eyebrow want to tick.

"Do not tell me you just used me as bait!"

Amy wasn't sure if that came out with a hiss or not. The calm was fading. Face had that unreadable look again, but in what little light there was she thought she might have seen a slight smirk to it. Oh yes, the calm was ancient history.

"We need to keep moving," he said matter-of-fact.

Face held out his hand for her and waited patiently for her to comply. Amy's eyebrow did tick this time. As if she needed led through the dark by the hand. She was a grown woman after all! What made him think he could see any better than she could? The reporter straightened and pulled Face's jacket around her, trying to ignore the fact that it was _his_, stood up straight, and started forward with her chin up all on her own, thank you. Fear was totally replaced at the moment with irritation for this _man_.

In the dark and looking forward Amy didn't see the amused look Face gave her. He simply gave a gentlemanly gesture with his hand for her to go on and started to walk as well.

She did, however, _hear_ the amused little cough he gave as she tripped over a fallen branch and pitched forward with an embarrassingly little squeal. Strong arms and a warm scent caught her before she face planted into the ground and steadied her on her feet again.

This time when Face held out his hand to the reporter, she took it. Okay, maybe, just maybe, he could somehow see better than she could, or he was just more practiced at traipsing around in the dark.

As she led into that tireless pace again, this time stumbling in the dark, and steadied by that strong grip, all the previously forgotten about aches and pains came back to the forefront.

This is going to be a long night, Amy thought with a sigh.

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><p><strong>I know the story starts right in the middle there, trust me, it's supposed to!<strong>

**Comments, reviews, questions or suggestions are always welcome, but never required. **


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